Sultry sweet smile on her lips made of trash
by moonlitememories
Summary: There aren't a lot of things that can get under Steve's skin, but evidently, red lipstick and snarky pinup girls can. Pre-slash


**I felt like taking a break from my Sterek evidently, which is fine, this has been on my back burner for a few months now and I've got another one somewhere. Sue me, I'm a Darcy whore, so I like, hardcore ship her with Steve, and occasionally Bruce, depending on the story. I've also shipped her with Loki though, because come on its Tom Hiddleston, so really I can't say much? She's just so...sassy!**

**Anyway, enjoy!**

* * *

Red.

Bright, sinful, succulent red.

A little bit dewy, more than just a little swollen and pouty.

A brilliant red, catching his eyes and pulling them in before his gaze stuttered up into those midnight eyes that could entrance and tease him all at once.

The kind of red that made him want to nibble and pull at the pouty flesh between his white teeth, smearing the waxy substance to the point that it was on his own mouth.

The startling color that set off her pale, smooth, milky skin and pulled out the deep dark, blue of her eyes that hid underneath heavy lids and lashes, making him want to drink from her mouth with long, sipping kisses.

Darcy called her lipstick trashy.

Darcy called her lipstick trashy, and yet there was nothing he liked better than that bright, wet, red smeared across her mouth.

Darcy called her lipstick trashy, and there was nothing in this world Steve had ever disagreed with more.

.

The first time Steve had met Darcy, it had been by accident, at about one something in the morning when the super soldier couldn't close his eyes for the voices from the past that chose to haunt him, and instead, he had wandered into the elevator and down to the communal living room in the Avengers Tower.

It was quiet, everything dark and still in the tall building that was usually buzzing with life and power from its superhero tenants.

Long shadows stretched across the open floor of the room, streaking across sleek wood and plush furniture, soaking into the soft fabric and giving a faint glare off the dark flooring.

Quiet and still, and yet, there was a smell, something that was a bit off in the area. It was sharp, tangy and acidic, making his nose curl and making him feel like he had to sneeze or cough, he couldn't tell which exactly. He didn't like the way it sat in his throat though, how it clung to his skin and made it feel a little harder to swallow.

Maybe, maybe it was something outside, he had had a window open earlier after all, it would only make sense.

But, as he crossed quietly to where he had sat earlier, bare feet moving silently across the floor and his body swaying a little, Steve felt his brow furrow. Because the window was shut and latched, the seal reinforced with an alarm that responded to voice scans after midnight.

Which meant that the scent, strong and bitter as it was, was coming from somewhere inside the living room/kitchen, meaning that either something had been left out that one of Tony's janitor bots hadn't been able to catch, or-

"You're in my light."

The voice came from his immediate right, low and loud in the silence, and so he swung around quickly, gaze darting and settling on the figure seated atop the counter closest to the wall of windows.

It was female, he could tell that much from the sound of the voice and the way that the figure held itself, but apart from that, there wasn't much he could see.

The smell though, that was where it was coming from.

"My apologies, ma'am, I didn't know anyo-"

"Don't call me ma'am, and move your shoulders 'for I complain to Jarvis."

A snort, the type of sound that he wasn't used to hearing from a woman.

Out of habit and steel enforced manners, he took a step to the side, letting the moonlight filter in and illuminate her figure.

Oh.

She was pale, especially so in the moonlight that lit her features, making soft shadows on her skin and causing them to hang heavily.

Her hair was dark, looked black in the dim lighting, and it hung down in heavy waves, luscious half curls and wisping ends that slid past her shoulders.

Her face was oval shaped, filled with an upturned nose, high cheeks, a full mouth and a deep set, heavy lidded pair of eyes.

A dark pink mouth, plush and pouty and puffed a bit.

Dark eyes, he couldn't see the color, couldn't tell, only knew that they were staring at him with the kind of glance that seemed to see straight through him.

Glasses, rectangular ones with a thick black frame that sat low on her nose from how her head was tipped down, her eyes looking at him over the edge of them.

Even coiled up as she was with one leg pulled to her chest and the other folded beside her, he could easily see the curves of her chest and hips, the pinch of her waist in her faded looking Culver shirt and sleeper pants.

"Careful, might catch a fly in that pretty little trap a yours."

"Pardon me?"

That wasn't a break to his voice, a bit of a strain as he tried to clear his throat and talk at the same time, no, never.

"Shut your mouth, Cap."

Oh, he thought with a quick blink an a snap of his jaw, watching her still with something close to wide eyed wonder, because surely no woman that beautiful could be real?

"I'm sorry, Miss, I didn't think so-,"

There was a bottle of something strange next to her leg, little and shaped like a small vase, capless. There was a label around it, though he couldn't really know what it meant, but that was...the Avenger's symbol on the side of it?

"Call me Miss or ma'am one more time and I'll tell DUM-E you're on fire."

Carefully, blinking, he turned his head, looking for the strange robot, but it was nowhere in sight.

"It's Darcy, and non of that Miss Lewis shit. Miss Lewis is my lush of a mother, got it, Cap?"

He didn't know which was more disconcerting, the fact that she knew who he was, and yet she continued to talk to him like that, or the fact that he'd found the cap to the strange bottle, clasped between her fingers, and she was using it to spread color on her little toe nails.

"Yes, Ma'-Darcy. Right."

The grin he gave her was sheepish, and it made her soften a bit as her head shook, sending her dark hair to dance in the air.

She was amused by him then, if nothing else.

"There a reason you're up this late?"

Shouldn't it have been him asking that, wondering why a pretty dame was down in the kitchen by herself, sitting on the counter with some strange smelling liquid in her hands?

"Couldn't sleep."

"Well, join the party, there's some coffee in the pot still unless I drank it all, and but I'm pretty sure there's some ice cream still if you don't mind the ridiculously expensive rocky road Tony bought. I was killin fer'some cookie dough, but that ain't about to happen."

Shrugging, she lifted her hands in the air slightly, dipping the bottle top with its strange little brush back into the bottle before pulling it free, dripping as it was and taking it back to her toe nails.

" What...what is that?"

Grunting, she waited till the nail was done to look up at him through her hair, looking ethereal and pale in the moonlight.

"Nail polish, want some?"

"No, I don't think I-"

"Na-ah, sit."

Slim fingers wrapping around his wrist and giving a bit of a tug, Steve found himself sitting on the counter beside her, his long, swiney legs pulled up and stretched into her lap while her fingers made quick, neat work of painting his toes.

They talked for three hours, both of them finally crawling back to their respective apartments sometime around four, and he completely forgot about the polish on his feet.

Till morning came around and he had to explain to the amused forms of Tony and Clint why his toes were Iron Man Red.

.

The second time Steve saw Darcy, a few weeks had passed, and he had just finished destroying eight punching bags that Coulson kept in stock for him down in the old gym.

With his head down and his weight sliding from foot to foot, he peeked up when the door to the elevator dinged open and a musky, spicy, cinnamon-y scent crawled out to him.

Standing there with her arms and ankles crossed, was Darcy.

There was a large cardboard box of something or other at her feet, and with a quietly questioning sound in the back of his throat, he stepped onto the elevator beside the beautiful woman with her tight shut eyes and her slumber-like visage.

Her hair was brown, not black, and just as wavy and curly as it had been the first time he had seen her in the darkness of the kitchen.

With her head down, he kept his lips sealed, glancing at her through his lashes as the elevator roared to life once more.

They made it about a floor and a half before he was caught.

"Its rude to stare, Cap."

His body gave a slight jolt, embarrassed flush taking over his tanned features and his hands clasping behind his back.

"Didn't mean to, I just wasn't exactly sure if you were awake or not,"

A twitch to her full lips.

"Plan on catchin me if I fell?"

"Of course."

A quiet chuckle, just as smooth and smoky as the rest of her, and her eyes cracked open to look up at him.

Oh.

They were blue, her eyes.

A dark blue, deep and seemingly bottomless in their depths. A pretty blue, dark as the midnight before had been when he had sat with her that night. Starless, though the skies twinkling lights had been replaced in her eyes with a warmth of mischief, making them look darker and lighter all at once an oh, he'd never liked blue eyes before.

Peggy had had brown eyes.

Her paleness helped, accenting the dark color and while on anyone else they would have seemed black, dark as they were, it was easy to tell that that was blue in their depths, or maybe it was the light, he wasn't certain.

Her cheeks lifted in a bit of a smirk, and that drew his gaze to her lips, and oh.

Red.

Her mouth was red.

Painted in it, a slightly waxy, glossy looking color that didn't have a single smear or dab out of place and it was red, setting off her pale skin and brightening her dark eyes.

Red and full and unmarred and just a little bit pouty.

Oh.

Quickly, he let his eyes drop, cheeks turning warm and pink and his eyes widening just a little, scrambling for anything to say, anything to fix his embarrassment and stop the thunderous hammering of his heart.

"That's an awfully big box for a dame to be carrying on her own."

She made a little sound, something just this sound of a laugh that sounded both flattered and insulted and oh, but he'd done it again, hadn't he?

"Poptarts, our resident Midgardian Maiden practically lives on these puppies," Carefully, she tapped her foot to the edge of the box, making its contents rattle. "When she's not in a science coma, and seeing how its been about a month since I got the last shipment, its about time I hit the reset button on her care cycle."

"Dr. Foster? Do you work for her?"

"Work? Ha, ha ah ha! Funny Cap. Its...Poli Science major who did her internship under the wrong kind of scientist all for six measly credit hours, hit the God of Thunder with a car, proceeded to taser him when he got up because he freaked me out, and then continued to be lumped in with said God when Son of Coul decided to try and wrap him up. Things went down the drain, big metal-flaming-lava-destroyer-thing happened, and Thor got schwucked back into Asgard. Suites packed up all of Jane's stuff, took Eric, and somehow I got classified somewhere in the middle of being Jane's stuff and knowing too much, which landed me here in New York instead of back in New Mexico where I sprouted from, and to top it all off I've been assigned the job of being the Avengers daily handler."

He wasn't positive, but with the bit of a heave her chest gave at the end, he was willing to bet that she had managed that all in one breath, doing nothing short of astounding him.

It was different, he'd never heard a girl like her offer him more than a second or two of her time, enough to be dismissive, and then of course there had been Peggy, but she hadn't exactly said much either even though she had shot at him.

"Daily handler?"

She was smiling at him, full lips stretched wide and her eyes crinkling at the corners. An amused expression, and he felt the breath catch in his throat when she reached up, using her fingers to smooth back the part of his bangs that had fallen forward.

"Think of me as your nanny. I can cook but I usually don', you might catch me cleaning if you're lucky, but I will make sure you have everything you need, and I'll even keep you from blowing up."

Darcy hadn't shot at him.

With his cheeks flushing, he gave her a smile in return, just as earnest and bashful as the first one he had given her.

The notion that that was a bit of pink crawling up to stain her porcelain face was chased away by the ding of the elevator, and the motion she made to lift the large box.

He beat her to it though, ducking before she could grab it and hoisting it up onto one shoulder before her fingers could even fully brush the side of it. "I'll take it Darcy, you'll just need to show me where it goes."

"Really, Cap, y'don't need't-"

"It's not a problem, I promise," Not if I get to spend more time with you, he thought with a soft smile in her direction, just as eager and bashful as the first, but oh, the words wouldn't seem to stop, didn't seem content with just that. "I'll even let you buy me lunch to make it up if you feel guilty."

Oh good God almighty, he'd done it now.

She was a few paces ahead of him, stopping with one hand on a well rounded hip and looking up at him with a strange expression on her face, something he couldn't read.

And she was silent, long enough for him to panic, palms starting to sweat, oh, he'd done it this time.

"I know this little dive, couple blocks up. Strawberry milkshakes and a burger made'a grease."

That was that, the only thing she gave him before she turned, leading the way with her come hither sway and her bouncing curls of hair.


End file.
